Unmov’d he holds his eyes, By Jove’s command; nor suffer’d love to rise, Tho’ heaving in his heart; and thus at length replies: "Fair queen, you never can enough repeat Your boundless favors, or I own my debt; Nor can my mind forget Eliza’s name, While vital breath inspires this mortal frame.
There are no more uses of "bound" identified with this meaning, but check unspecified meaning below.
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The ball went out of bounds.
She stepped out of bounds, so the other team got the ball.
To them no bounds of empire I assign, Nor term of years to their immortal line.
Bare were her knees, and knots her garments bind; Loose was her hair, and wanton’d in the wind; Her hand sustain’d a bow; her quiver hung behind.
With prosp’rous gales we pass the quiet sounds Of still Elorus, and his fruitful bounds.
The shouting crew their ships with garlands bind, Invoke the sea gods, and invite the wind.
Down thro’ the crannies of the living walls The crystal streams descend in murm’ring falls: No haulsers need to bind the vessels here, Nor bearded anchors; for no storms they fear.
If, giv’n by you, the laurel bind my brow, Assist to make me guilty of my vow!
Ye fatal fillets, that once bound this head!
Now seas and skies their prospect only bound; An empty space above, a floating field around.
He said, and first his brows with myrtle bound.
Green wreaths of bays his length of hair inclose; A golden fillet binds his awful brows; His quiver sounds: not less the prince is seen In manly presence, or in lofty mien.
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Trembling the miscreant stood, unarm’d and bound; He star’d, and roll’d his haggard eyes around, Then said: ’Alas! what earth remains, what sea Is open to receive unhappy me?
Hermes obeys; with golden pinions binds His flying feet, and mounts the western winds: And, whether o’er the seas or earth he flies, With rapid force they bear him down the skies.
The restless regions of the storms she sought, Where, in a spacious cave of living stone, The tyrant Aeolus, from his airy throne, With pow’r imperial curbs the struggling winds, And sounding tempests in dark prisons binds.
Thus all, rewarded by the hero’s hands, Their conqu’ring temples bound with purple bands; And now Sergesthus, clearing from the rock, Brought back his galley shatter’d with the shock.
False as you are, suppose you were not bound To lands unknown, and foreign coasts to sound; Were Troy restor’d, and Priam’s happy reign, Now durst you tempt, for Troy, the raging main?
Let her care The solemn rites of sacrifice prepare; The sheep, and all th’ atoning off’rings bring, Sprinkling her body from the crystal spring With living drops; then let her come, and thou With sacred fillets bind thy hoary brow.
The cry pursues the mountain goats: they bound From rock to rock, and keep the craggy ground; Quite otherwise the stags, a trembling train, In herds unsingled, scour the dusty plain, And a long chase in open view maintain.
The wretch had hardly made his dungeon fast; The fierce avenger came with bounding haste; Survey’d the mouth of the forbidden hold, And here and there his raging eyes he roll’d.
But now the prince, who saw the wild increase Of wounds, commands the combatants to cease, And bounds Entellus’ wrath, and bids the peace.
Then Caesar from the Julian stock shall rise, Whose empire ocean, and whose fame the skies Alone shall bound; whom, fraught with eastern spoils, Our heav’n, the just reward of human toils, Securely shall repay with rites divine; And incense shall ascend before his sacred shrine.
This said, a double wreath Evander twin’d, And poplars black and white his temples bind.
Our narrow kingdom here the Tiber bounds; That other side the Latian state surrounds, Insults our walls, and wastes our fruitful grounds.
Now loud laments along the shores resound, Of parting friends in close embraces bound.
The heads of these with holy fillets bound, And all their temples were with garlands crown’d.
So when the watchful shepherd, from the blind, Wounds with a random shaft the careless hind, Distracted with her pain she flies the woods, Bounds o’er the lawn, and seeks the silent floods, With fruitless care; for still the fatal dart Sticks in her side, and rankles in her heart.
Betwixt those regions and our upper light, Deep forests and impenetrable night Possess the middle space: th’ infernal bounds Cocytus, with his sable waves, surrounds.
Agrippa seconds him, with prosp’rous gales, And, with propitious gods, his foes assails: A naval crown, that binds his manly brows, The happy fortune of the fight foreshows.
Thus arm’d, the god begins his airy race, And drives the racking clouds along the liquid space; Now sees the tops of Atlas, as he flies, Whose brawny back supports the starry skies; Atlas, whose head, with piny forests crown’d, Is beaten by the winds, with foggy vapors bound.
Willing we sought your shores; and, hither bound, The port, so long desir’d, at length we found; From our sweet homes and ancient realms expell’d; Great as the greatest that the sun beheld.
And here the tam’d Euphrates humbly glides, And there the Rhine submits her swelling tides, And proud Araxes, whom no bridge could bind; The Danes’ unconquer’d offspring march behind, And Morini, the last of humankind.
She, for the fault of one offending foe, The bolts of Jove himself presum’d to throw: With whirlwinds from beneath she toss’d the ship, And bare expos’d the bosom of the deep; Then, as an eagle gripes the trembling game, The wretch, yet hissing with her father’s flame, She strongly seiz’d, and with a burning wound Transfix’d, and naked, on a rock she bound.
They stare, they start, nor stop their course, before They bear the bounding chariot to the shore.
There Charon stands, who rules the dreary coastA sordid god: down from his hoary chin A length of beard descends, uncomb’d, unclean; His eyes, like hollow furnaces on fire; A girdle, foul with grease, binds his obscene attire.
The monster, spewing fruitless flames, he found; He squeez’d his throat; he writh’d his neck around, And in a knot his crippled members bound; Then from their sockets tore his burning eyes: Roll’d on a heap, the breathless robber lies.
Her flowing hair no golden fillet bound; Nor swept her trailing robe the dusty ground.
The fiery steed, impatient of the wound, Curvets, and, springing upward with a bound, His helpless lord cast backward on the ground.
Gold, weav’d with linen, on his thighs he wore, With flowers of needlework distinguish’d o’er, With golden buckles bound, and gather’d up before.
The Trojan, by his word, is bound to take The same conditions which himself did make.
A passage thro’ the jointed arms it found, Just where the belt was to the body bound, And struck the gentle youth extended on the ground.
Their fetlocks run with blood; and, when they bound, The gore and gath’ring dust are dash’d around.
This little spot of land, which Heav’n bestows, On ev’ry side is hemm’d with warlike foes; Gaetulian cities here are spread around, And fierce Numidians there your frontiers bound; Here lies a barren waste of thirsty land, And there the Syrtes raise the moving sand; Barcaean troops besiege the narrow shore, And from the sea Pygmalion threatens more.
Propp’d on a staff, she takes a trembling mien: Her face is furrow’d, and her front obscene; Deep-dinted wrinkles on her cheek she draws; Sunk are her eyes, and toothless are her jaws; Her hoary hair with holy fillets bound, Her temples with an olive wreath are crown’d.
Good unexpected, evils unforeseen, Appear by turns, as fortune shifts the scene: Some, rais’d aloft, come tumbling down amain; Then fall so hard, they bound and rise again.
Iolas fell, whom not the Grecian pow’rs, Nor great subverter of the Trojan tow’rs, Were doom’d to kill, while Heav’n prolong’d his date; But who can pass the bounds, prefix’d by fate?
By this, the Trojan and the Tuscan horse, Drawn up in squadrons, with united force, Approach the walls: the sprightly coursers bound, Press forward on their bits, and shift their ground.
Not with more ease the falcon, from above, Trusses in middle air the trembling dove, Then plumes the prey, in her strong pounces bound: The feathers, foul with blood, come tumbling to the ground.
How dire a tempest, from Mycenae pour’d, Our plains, our temples, and our town devour’d; What was the waste of war, what fierce alarms Shook Asia’s crown with European arms; Ev’n such have heard, if any such there be, Whose earth is bounded by the frozen sea; And such as, born beneath the burning sky And sultry sun, betwixt the tropics lie.
The hero, looking on the left, espied A lofty tow’r, and strong on ev’ry side With treble walls, which Phlegethon surrounds, Whose fiery flood the burning empire bounds; And, press’d betwixt the rocks, the bellowing noise resounds Wide is the fronting gate, and, rais’d on high With adamantine columns, threats the sky.
But from his headstrong horse his fate he found, Who threw his master, as he made a bound: The chief, alighting, stuck him to the ground; Then Clonius, hand to hand, on foot assails: The Trojan sinks, and Neptune’s son prevails.
Then, as he roll’d his troubled eyes around, An antique stone he saw, the common bound Of neighb’ring fields, and barrier of the ground; So vast, that twelve strong men of modern days Th’ enormous weight from earth could hardly raise.
Some roll a weighty stone; some, laid along, And bound with burning wires, on spokes of wheels are hung Unhappy Theseus, doom’d for ever there, Is fix’d by fate on his eternal chair; And wretched Phlegyas warns the world with cries (Could warning make the world more just or wise): ’Learn righteousness, and dread th’ avenging deities.’
Trembling he springs, As terror had increas’d his feet with wings; Nor stay’d for stairs; but down the depth he threw His body, on his back the door he drew (The door, a rib of living rock; with pains His father hew’d it out, and bound with iron chains): He broke the heavy links, the mountain clos’d, And bars and levers to his foe oppos’d.
Mankind, it seems, is made for you alone; We, but the slaves who mount you to the throne: A base ignoble crowd, without a name, Unwept, unworthy, of the fun’ral flame, By duty bound to forfeit each his life, That Turnus may possess a royal wife.
The morn ensuing, from the mountain’s height, Had scarcely spread the skies with rosy light; Th’ ethereal coursers, bounding from the sea, From out their flaming nostrils breath’d the day; When now the Trojan and Rutulian guard, In friendly labor join’d, the list prepar’d.
Men, boys, and women, stupid with surprise, Where’er she passes, fix their wond’ring eyes: Longing they look, and, gaping at the sight, Devour her o’er and o’er with vast delight; Her purple habit sits with such a grace On her smooth shoulders, and so suits her face; Her head with ringlets of her hair is crown’d, And in a golden caul the curls are bound.
Thus having said, the hero bound his brows With leafy branches, then perform’d his vows; Adoring first the genius of the place, Then Earth, the mother of the heav’nly race, The nymphs, and native godheads yet unknown, And Night, and all the stars that gild her sable throne, And ancient Cybel, and Idaean Jove, And last his sire below, and mother queen above.
Embolden’d by despair, he stood at bay; And— like a stag, whom all the troop surrounds Of eager huntsmen and invading houndsResolv’d on death, he dissipates his fears, And bounds aloft against the pointed spears: So dares the youth, secure of death; and throws His dying body on his thickest foes.
A knotty lance of well-boil’d oak he bore; The middle part with cork he cover’d o’er: He clos’d the child within the hollow space; With twigs of bending osier bound the case; Then pois’d the spear, heavy with human weight, And thus invok’d my favor for the freight: ’Accept, great goddess of the woods,’ he said, ’Sent by her sire, this dedicated maid!
This let me beg (and this no fates withstand) Both for myself and for your father’s land, That, when the nuptial bed shall bind the peace, (Which I, since you ordain, consent to bless,) The laws of either nation be the same; But let the Latins still retain their name, Speak the same language which they spoke before, Wear the same habits which their grandsires wore.
So swelling surges, with a thund’ring roar, Driv’n on each other’s backs, insult the shore, Bound o’er the rocks, incroach upon the land, And far upon the beach eject the sand; Then backward, with a swing, they take their way, Repuls’d from upper ground, and seek their mother sea; With equal hurry quit th’ invaded shore, And swallow back the sand and stones they spew’d before.
To this the god: " ’T is yours, O queen, to will The work which duty binds me to fulfil.
…attest, and all their names; Whatever chance befall on either side, No term of time this union shall divide: No force, no fortune, shall my vows unbind, Or shake the steadfast tenor of my mind; Not tho’ the circling seas should break their bound, O’erflow the shores, or sap the solid ground; Not tho’ the lamps of heav’n their spheres forsake, Hurl’d down, and hissing in the nether lake: Ev’n as this royal scepter" (for he bore A scepter in his hand) "shall never more Shoot out in…
Janus himself before his fane shall wait, And keep the dreadful issues of his gate, With bolts and iron bars: within remains Imprison’d Fury, bound in brazen chains; High on a trophy rais’d, of useless arms, He sits, and threats the world with vain alarms."
His race, in arms and arts of peace renown’d, Not Latium shall contain, nor Europe bound: ’T is theirs whate’er the sun surveys around."
"Anius, the priest and king, with laurel crown’d, His hoary locks with purple fillets bound, Who saw my sire the Delian shore ascend, Came forth with eager haste to meet his friend; Invites him to his palace; and, in sign Of ancient love, their plighted hands they join.
No sooner were his eyes in slumber bound, When, from above, a more than mortal sound Invades his ears; and thus the vision spoke: "Seek not, my seed, in Latian bands to yoke Our fair Lavinia, nor the gods provoke.
Then Jove, to soothe his sorrow, thus began: "Short bounds of life are set to mortal man.
In this high temple, on a chair of state, The seat of audience, old Latinus sate; Then gave admission to the Trojan train; And thus with pleasing accents he began: "Tell me, ye Trojans, for that name you own, Nor is your course upon our coasts unknownSay what you seek, and whither were you bound: Were you by stress of weather cast aground?